CBQ1: Michael and Maggie
Maggie
Maggie Callaghan put her hands on her hips and looked approvingly around her cellar at the shelves of home-canned goodies. Peaches and pears, applesauce. Jams and jellies. Tomatoes. Bunches of dried herbs hung from the hand-hewn wooden rafters, giving the space a spicy aroma. Now that she was a busy wife, mom, and business woman, there wasn’t as much as there once had been, but it was still enough to ride out the apocalypse. Or the pandemic.
The floor above her creaked beneath the weight of her husband’s footsteps. She topped off her wicker basket with a multitude of small jars filled with a variety of homemade jams and preserves and went quickly up the steps.
She paused at the top, her heart speeding up at the sight of him washing his hands at the sink. Wide shoulders. Broad, strong back. Narrow hips and powerful legs. Even after ten years of marriage, she still felt a rush of pleasures to find him in her kitchen.
“Welcome home.”
He turned and gave her a heart stopping, if weary, smile. “Hey, beautiful.”
She took a step toward him, half-expecting him to protest. She knew it was only a matter of time. Every day, the news was increasingly dire. The pandemic was spreading like wildfire. Federal, state, and local governments were issuing new edicts daily. Non-essential businesses were shutting down. People were being told to stay home.
Not everyone could. People still got sick. People still needed help. And her husband, her croi, was there on the front lines daily, doing what he could.
A very selfish part of her wanted to rage at him, tell him to stay home and not risk himself or their family. After all, he didn’t need to work. They were financially secure.
Thankfully, those moments of panic-induced weakness were few and far between. He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that. And truthfully, she wouldn’t want him to. His compassion was one of the reasons she loved him so much.
His intelligence, too. He was brilliant, with a gift for biochemistry. They would find a cure or a treatment or a vaccine, and when they did, Maggie was confident that Michael would have had some hand in it.
Michael didn’t stop her, and before she knew it, her basket was on the counter and she was against him, wrapping her hands around waist and pressing her head against his chest, taking comfort in the strong, steady beat of his heart. She needed this. Needed him. He was her anchor. Her world.
Like magic, the panic drained away. As long as she could hold him, she knew everything was going to be okay.
The smell of his freshly-laundered shirt and the lingering scent of antiseptic confirmed what she already knew—that he’d taken every precaution to safeguard himself and not bring any of the horror into their home.
“Rough day?”
He kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her, needed the contact every bit as much as she did. “Yes. No confirmed cases in Pine Ridge yet, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe. It’s going to hit us eventually. Hopefully by the time is does, we’ll have some weapons in our arsenal. This virus is ugly.”
“We’ll get through this.”
“I know we will.”
Michael
Michael loosened his arms, allowing Maggie to step free. She didn’t, choosing to linger against him. He wasn’t about to stop her. If he couldn’t come home at the end of the day and hold her like this, his world wouldn’t be the same. That was just one of the many reasons they had to get a handle on this damn virus fast.
Still, he wouldn’t put his wife or children in danger.
Soothed by her presence, he took a moment to gaze at the dozens and dozens of freshly baked muffins cooling on the counter and the basket loaded with small glass jars. His Maggie always baked when she was anxious.
“What’s all this?” he asked, though he already had a pretty good idea.
This time she did step away. “Just putting together some care packages.”
“Maggie, that’s not exactly social distancing.”
She sniffed. “People still need food. And they still like their remedies. Especially some of the elderly. They’re at risk, and they’re too afraid to venture out. And even if they were able to go out, the stores shelves are empty. We have so much. We’re healthy. We can’t do nothing to help them.”
“Maggie…”
“Don’t Maggie me, Michael Callaghan. You feel the same way or you wouldn’t be working sixteen hours a day at the hospital lab. Besides, I’m being very careful. I’m not actually going to get close to anyone, I’m just going to leave them on people’s porches.”
He sighed heavily. His wife had a huge heart and her Irish grandmother’s gift for homeopathic herbs and remedies. In many ways, she’d been caring for the citizens of Pine Ridge longer than he had. She wouldn’t abandon them, not unless she had no other choice. Her limitless compassion was one of the reasons he loved her so much.
He decided to change the subject. “Where are the boys?”
“I sent them outside with George to get some fresh air. They’ve been cooped up with online school work all day.”
A new hunger rose within in, one that had nothing to do with the delicious aromas coming from the counter. “You mean, we have the house to ourselves?”
Just that quickly, her eyes darkened. “Why yes, yes we do.”
He eyed the counter and considered how mad Maggie would be if he swiped a few of those trays aside to make room for her. It was the perfect height for what he had in mind.
She laughed, accurately guessing at his thoughts. “Oh, no, you don’t. I’ve spent too many hours on those muffins and besides, the boys could walk in at any moment.”
“Hm.” He pulled her close again so she could feel just how hungry he was. “What are we going to do about this?”
Her hands stroked down his back and latched onto his ass. “Well, when I was down in the cellar, I might have had a little fantasy about the stairs.”
“You did, huh?”
“Mm-hm. I figured if you were standing on the floor and I was on the first or second step, bracing myself…”
Michael growled and thrust against her. “I’m liking this fantasy of yours.”
“And we do have the safety lock on the inside so the kids wouldn’t follow me down there.”
“That’s true.” He leaned down and kissed the column of her neck. “Let’s make that fantasy a reality.”
She squeezed his ass. “Yes, let’s do that…”